


Nurse Daryl

by OnlyTheInevitable



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-17
Updated: 2015-12-17
Packaged: 2018-05-07 06:17:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5446295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnlyTheInevitable/pseuds/OnlyTheInevitable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daryl promises to help Carol while her back is recovering from her fight with Morgan. He didn't realize the embarrassing positions this would put him in. "Daryl, Could you wash my back?" Not that he's complaining. Caryl</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nurse Daryl

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! It's been a long time since I delved into writing fanfic, but I recently fell in love with The Walking Dead, specifically Carol and Daryl, and I had to get my fantasies out somehow lol. I'm a bit rusty so don't be too hard on me. Sorry if the beginning seems rushed, I didn't want to focus as much on how he got to her. Warning, this also mentions Carol's abuse from Ed. Enjoy!

It had taken some time, but pretty much everyone who was left in Alexandria had recovered from the collapse of the tower. By the time Daryl, Sasha, and Abraham had returned, the herd had moved on, and initiations to secure Alexandria once again had been put into place. Even the chaotic mess didn't distract Daryl from his main priority. Where was Carol? As soon as they arrived to the commotion, his eyes scanned every face and every crowd. No Carol. It took him overhearing a conversation to get his unsettling answer.

"Move all the wounded to the temporary clinic. Be careful with Carol, we can't tell how bad the injuries are yet." Daryl's feet had never moved so fast in his entire life.

He found her immediately upon entering the house with the injured. She looked so frail in the big bed, but aside from an injury on her forehead, he couldn't tell what was wrong with her. After talking to the Alexandria doctor with the glasses, he learned the whole story. About the wolves, about the collapse, about the herd, about Morgan. He couldn't listen to anymore after that. His heart pounding in his ears had been too loud. Morgan threw a woman half his weight onto concrete. He attacked Carol over saving the life of an enemy. Daryl couldn't contain the repulsed nausea. Morgan was lucky the walkers got to him before he could.

Carol woke up not too long after his arrival, and the doctor woman was able to determine that she hadn't broken anything. However, her back was extremely bruised and tender. She was going to need constant assistance, much to her chagrin.

It had taken a week for her to be discharged from the clinic and by that time most of the safety precautions had been put into full effect. The size of Alexandria had decreased to a more reasonable one in order to put up new walls faster, which meant that the amount of people in one house had increased exponentially. Daryl didn't leave Carol's side while she had been at the clinic, with the exception of using the restroom, so his room assignment had been made for him. He was in a smaller house with Abraham, Eugene, Rosita, Sasha, Tara, and Carol. His roommate being Carol. As flustered as this made him, he could breathe easier being able to have her near him after this long apart. This also made it more acceptable for him to volunteer to take care of her while she recovered. She agreed with no hesitation and they allowed her to leave. Their new house was only a block down, but Carol's injuries made the walk last longer than it would have otherwise, but he didn't mind. He offered to carry her, but that would put too much stress on her back, so they settled on walking side by side with Carol holding on to his arm.

"I'm sorry" Daryl muttered, breaking the silence.

She glanced at him and cocked her head in confusion before responding, "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"If I had been here you wouldn't been in that situation alone. I would've helped ya." He grieved.

She looked in him in that all-knowing way before a subtle smirked reached her lips. "Daryl, don't do that to yourself. You were helping keep Alexandria safe, helping keep me safe. It's in the past. I'll recover." She soothed, clutching onto his arm tighter and resting her head on his shoulder. His guilt was subsided at her words, but it was still lingering. The rest of the journey was in a comfortable silence as they approached the house. He turned the knob and they were greeted by Tara sprawled out on the couch.

"Hey! I haven't seen you guys in forever. Sorry the rooms were kinda picked over, you guys have the one at the far end of the hallway upstairs." She greeted enthusiastically, contorting her head to look at them.

"Thanks," he grumbled in response. They made it up the stairs and halfway down the hall before Carol made him stop in his tracks.

"Our room?" She said with a smile and a provocative smile. He tripped over himself at the tone and his own stupidity smacked him in the face. I didn't tell her we were sharing a room.

"Uh, yeah, um. Rick chose our house assignment and the rest just kinda assumed, um. I can change rooms if you'd prefer," He stammered.

"No-no, what would I do without my nurse?" She coyly teased. He didn't respond due to the fact they had reached the door. He pushed the door open with his hand and immediately felt his face get redder, if that was even possible. One bed. If Carol cared, she didn't show it. She detached herself from him and made her way to the bed before plopping down with an audible grunt. Daryl just stood there uncertain of what to do.

"Uh, I'm gonna go get filled in by Rick. I'll be back in ten minutes." He informed her. He got a muffled okay through the sheets and left the room.

It didn't take anytime at all to talk to Rick. It was all information he had already heard through the grapevine. A lot of people were lost in the heard, one of which was Deanna, and Rick had stepped up in her place. Recovery from this would take time and everyone should take it safe for the moment. He left Rick's house to go to his own next door. Daryl nodded his head in greeting to Tara, made his way up the stairs, opened the door and-no Carol. His heart dropped as he looked on the other side of the bed. Not there. Fuck.

"Carol?" He called out. No response. He started to make his way out of the room when he tried again.

"Carol?" He would have been embarrassed at the irrational desperation of his tone if he wasn't so worried. She was too injured to be going outside. He had just started togo down the stairs when he heard the soft creak of a door. He turned around and was met with a peak of silver hair and anxious blue eyes.

"Daryl could you help me?" She asked, oddly shy. Daryl's curiosity was spiked as he backtracked up the steps. What room was she in?

"Yeah, what's up?" He asked, hand moved to open the door, only to be stopped by Carol pushing back. What is going on? He looked down at her only to see her slightly flushed and nervous expression. She opened the door a little more so he could see her full face. Looking around he was able to see she was in the bathroom.

"I don't want to embarrass you." She muttered, avoiding his gaze.

"What do you need?" He asked again.

"I was in that bed for over a week. I really want to take a bath, but I can't move my arms very well," She informed.

"What does that-oh," he said as realization dawned on him. She couldn't get changed out of her clothes. He immediately felt all the blood in his body rush straight to his face.

"I, uh, do you want me to get Tara?" He inquired, starting for the stairs.

"N-no, I um, I don't want her to see." She stammered and he immediately understood. Ed left marks. He had the same reaction when he had been injured on the farm. The fewer people that could see his back the better. Carol and him had a routine on the road. While the others openly changed in front of one another, they would do it while no one was looking or they would disappear for a moment. It wasn't that she disliked Tara, she was just embarrassed.

"I gotcha," he said making his way towards the door. She opened it slightly, just enough to let him in, and as soon as he was she locked it back up.

He turned around and had to stifle a laugh. She definitely was determined to try to do it herself. Her pants were undone and around her thighs, presumably because she couldn't bend over, and she had shed her button up and had her tank top pulled just above her stomach, unable to pull it over her head. She noticed his amusement immediately and chuckled along with him. "I thought it would be easier," she smirked.

"Come 'ere," he laughed, trying to hide his anxiousness. They had slept together for warmth, but that was the extent of their physicality. Nothing this bare or intimate. She waddled over to him as he bent down on one knee. She rested her hand on his shoulder as he started to fully unbutton and unzip her jeans. He could feel the heat radiating off his ears as he slipped his fingers into the pants and pulled them down her silky legs. She put more pressure on his shoulder as she shifted from foot to foot to allow him to pull the pant legs off of her one by one. He stood up and folded the pants as she reached to get a towel from the cabinet. They both set each item down on the counter top and she turned around so her back was to him.

"I can't put my hands above my head, so I'm going to need you to help navigate," she instructed with an embarrassed smile. He grunted in response, but couldn't focus on anything beside the morbid bruise on her back. It extended from the base of her spine to the nape of her neck and was a sickly blue color. That bothered him, but not as much as the visible hand print of a vice grip on her upper arm. He pushed aside his budding anger and focused on the task in front of him. He delicately put his fingers under the hem of her tank top and pulled it up. Once he got to her neck, he stretched the shirt to allow her head to get free and it would just shimmy down her arms. While she was folding the tank top and putting it with her pants, he saw why she asked him specifically for help and his suspicions were confirmed. Plain as day, right above her black bra, was a scar that read "Mine". Daryl felt anger pulse within him. He wished that son of a bitch would come back to life just so he could kill him himself.

Carol sensed Daryl's irritation and turned around to face him, "I'm sorry. We'll be done in a second," she soothed.

"Don't rush yerself," he replied trying to calm himself down.

She turned back around and allowed him access to remove the rest of her clothing. Daryl could feel his anger being replaced by embarrassment once again. He had never been near a women this revealed and this close before. He lifted his hands and grasped her bra, not before taking note of how silky her skin was underneath his calloused hands. He fumbled a bit with unclasping it, eliciting a giggle from the woman standing in front of him. She kept her back to him as she placed the bra down and grabbed the towel and the reality of the situation hit him. Carol was standing in front of him in nothing but her underwear. He had imagined this so many times over the past year, but having it really happen was twenty times more exciting. He felt his pants tighten a bit, and immediately started thinking of anything else. Carol was trusting him with this and he didn't want to fuck it up.

She took the towel and wrapped it around herself and raised the hem to allow him access to the waistband of her matching black underwear. He gulped the lump in his throat and she gave him a confirmation glace. He gently grabbed her hips and softly pulled it down her legs. Now her understood why she had put on the towel because as the underwear went down so did the towel, completely covering her. He quickly set her underwear on the pile as she turned around and smiled at him.

"Thanks Daryl, I got it from here," she smiled through her obvious embarrassment.

"You sure?" He asked, but her suddenly flirtatious smile had him back tracking, "No! I mean I just didn't want you to hurt yourself," he quickly defended himself, earning a hearty laugh from her.

"I got it from here. Thank you." She said with a light touch on his arm.

"I'll be next door, holler if you change your mind," he resounded, making his exit.

"Ooh, I will indeed," she purred with a wink.

"Stop," he mumbled with a smirk, closing the door.

Daryl was worried about her injuring herself more, but didn't want to sound creepy by offering to help. All was good for a while until he heard a soft "shit" come from the other room. He stood up from his seat on the bed and took a few strides to listen outside the door. It was quite for a moment, and he made a turn to go back when he heard a quiet cry of pain. Daryl raised his fist to knock on the door.

"Carol?" He called, rapping his knuckles on the door. He didn't get a response, but he heard the sound of water rustling.

He made a move to call out again before he heard Carol softly mumble, "Can you come in for a second?"

He opened the door and was greeted with the sight of Carol sitting in the bathtub with her knees drawn up to her chest, effectively covering herself. Carol turned to Daryl with a huff, "I can't wash my hair," she sulked. Daryl stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He knew she was proud of her new found independence and having to ask for help was dampening her spirit, but she needed help. Daryl rolled up his sleeves as he sat on his knees beside the tub, so he could have better access. He reached over and got the bottle of shampoo, poring a dollop in his hand, and applied it to her already-wet hair. She leaned into his touch and closed her eyes.

She hummed in appreciation as his fingers worked in small ministrations over her scalp and he felt his groin spring to life. She was going to be the death of him. He was focused solely on her scalp and avoided looking down at all cost, to preserve her modesty and because a raging hard-on was the last thing he needed right now. However, the soft sounds she was making and the soft feeling of his fingers in her hair were not helping his situation. After her head was completely lathered he spoke up, "Uh, do you got a cup or anything?" he coughed out.

"Yeah, corner of the tub" she responded without opening her eyes. He looked around and spotted a large glass and he started filling it up with water.

"Keep your eyes closed," he commanded as he started to pour the water on her head. He repeated this a few times until her hair was totally rinsed, ignoring the trails the water was making down her body. He reached for the conditioner and repeated the process once more, enjoying being this close to her. Once her hair was completed he started to stand up.

"Um," she started.

"Sup?" He asked watching her face grow red as she avoided his gaze.

"Could you wash my back? Then I'll be done." She replied, flicking her eyes up to gauge his reaction. He coughed slightly before nodding, returning to his kneeling position. He was staring to question if she was doing this on purpose to tease him, which seemed to slowly become her favorite hobby. "You're just so cute when you're flustered."

He grabbed the only other bottle on the tub as she turned to face the wall, giving him full access to her back. He applied a generous amount to his hand and set the bottle back down. He tried to be as cautious of the bruise as he could when he placed his hands on her back. He felt like his hands were electrified as he grazed her skin, rubbing small circles to spread the body wash. Their personal space boundaries were almost non-existent between each other but they had never done anything this intimate, and he silently prayed that she couldn't hear how fast his heart was beating. He was being extremely cautious to avoid going too low or reaching too close to the sides of her breasts, which were teasing him by peaking into view from being pressed against her legs. As he wiped over a large expanse of her back he felt goosebumps form on her skin. He kept one hand running her back while the other hand poured water over her back to rinse the soap off. Once he was done he turned and grabbed the towel before offering his arm to her and closing his eyes as tight as possible.

"You would make a great masseuse," she joked. When Daryl didn't respond she turned around and noticed what he was doing. She grabbed into his exposed forearm and slowly pulled herself up and out of the tub, but as soon as her foot hit the linoleum she slid. Daryl's eyes shot open as he grabbed her and prevented her from falling backwards.

"You okay?" he asked looking into her amused eyes.

"My, my how forward Mr. Dixon," She purred with a smirk.

"Wha-" Daryl started before his eyes went wide as he felt every part of her on him. She was fucking naked. He released his grip immediately and closed his eyes once again, muttering an apology. He felt Carol take the offered towel from his arm, but decided it was probably best to keep his eyes closed and spare himself from further humiliation. His eyes were closed for a minute before he felt a soft press of lips to his cheek. He opened his eyes to see Carol standing in a long button down.

"Thank you Daryl," she beamed.

"Anytime," he mumbled, wondering if his face would ever go back to normal, or if he would be a permanent tomato.

"Could you just pull my underwear up? That's honestly the last thing I need," she asked with a shy smile. He looked down and saw she had stepped into a new pair of red underwear and he quickly bent down and brought them up, making sure to avert his gaze. When he was done he just nodded to her smiling face and retreated to their room.

Once she was done he was going to take the longest fucking shower of his life.


End file.
